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Updated: June 25, 2025
"My name's Gillat," he went on. "Captain Polkington is an old friend of mine." "Mr. Gillat?" Rawson-Clew said. He remembered the name, and something Julia had said about the bearer of it. It was he who had given her the big gold watch she wore, and he of whom she had seemed fond, in a half-protecting, half-patient way, that was rather inexplicable at least it was till he saw Mr. Gillat.
What she could see to interest her in this lump of a man Heaven alone knew, but a hint of the old half-patient, half-amused liking for him and his slow wits began to flicker once more. De gustibus alas! When Portlaw arrived home late that evening there existed within his somewhat ordinary intellect a sense of triumph.
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